I was pleased today to hear that a great-nephew has, and I guess admires, an old painting I made in 1952 (or maybe earlier?). It looks like it might have shed some paint (no one... of all the art teachers I had, and I had many... taught me to glaze or any way in which to guarantee the painting would last)... but I am on one side of the continent in San Francisco, while he lives on the other, so I hope it lasts a bit.
Amazing that I, the family 'artist,' have become just one of the family writers. I do not own any of my artworks anymore... they are spread out among the relatives... the majority are with my daughter, and I only own one tiny embroidery I made and framed when living in Eastern PA, entitled "Poppy on a Red Rug." It is a drawing of a dog we had who dearly loved to annoy us if we went out and left him, by peeing on one of our rugs. I don't even have the large book of drawings I made of family and friends. I think my sister took it with many of the things my mother had that were really mine.
Now I plan to do both... write and paint. I am reading my poetry in Yerba Buena Gardens tomorrow, and will break open the box of paints and canvas I ordered later in the week. Too bad we have no great musicians in the family, as I would dearly love to have some music playing as I read my poetry... so many of the poems are like songs and need music. I must start painting before all the flowers in our gardens disappear... Hell, this is California, we never run out of flowers... besides, I want to get back to painting people once more -- or maybe a few birds... who knows!
Ah, Phroggy... if you were only here, I should paint you. I miss you!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
More on Loudon Wainwright III
Why? Because I love him... he writes just what I would write if I could write music. So here is something about HIS family (though I am not fond of Rufus, but he is loved by many, so who cares what I think). (Rufus is great with his dad!)
this from "J-Walk Blog" http://j-walkblog.com/old/2004/12/23/index.html
The Wainwright Family
I first became aware of singer Loudon Wainwright III back in the early '70s. His first two albums (Loudon Wainwright III and Album 2) are among my all-time favorites. Long out of print, you can listen to some samples at Rhino Handmade, which made a limited edition CD (which is sold out). If anyone has a copy of this Rhino CD, please get in touch with me.
Over the years, I've heard of several other Wainwrights who are related to him. I was never quite sure of the relationships, so I did a little research. What follows is, I think, accurate -- but correct me if I'm wrong.
Loudon Wainwright III was born in 1947. He still performs and records, and has also had a minor acting career (M.A.S.H., Ally McBeal, and a few movies). His father was Loudon S Wainwright Jr., a famous journalist and editor for Life magazine, who died in 1992. The father of Loudon S. Wainwright Jr. was Loudon Wainwright, a wealthy insurance magnate and a direct descendant of colonial governor Peter Stuyvesant.
Loudon Wainwright III has younger sister, Sloan Wainwright. She's a popular indie singer/songwriter.
Loudon Wainwright III has three offspring:
* Rufus Wainwright was born in 1973, and his mother is Canadian singer Kate McGarrigle. He's definitely the most famous of the Wainwright kids.
* Martha Wainwright was born in 1976, and her mother is also Kate McGarrigle -- who was divorced from Loudon in 1977.
* Lucy Roche, whose mother is singer Suzzy Roche). Lucy was a student at Oberlin College, and she also sings.
Here's a link to a recent interview with Loudon Wainwright III: All in the family.
Musician and actor Loudon Wainwright III has had a very successful career, but he still can't get his damn kids to listen.
this from "J-Walk Blog" http://j-walkblog.com/old/2004/12/23/index.html
The Wainwright Family
I first became aware of singer Loudon Wainwright III back in the early '70s. His first two albums (Loudon Wainwright III and Album 2) are among my all-time favorites. Long out of print, you can listen to some samples at Rhino Handmade, which made a limited edition CD (which is sold out). If anyone has a copy of this Rhino CD, please get in touch with me.
Over the years, I've heard of several other Wainwrights who are related to him. I was never quite sure of the relationships, so I did a little research. What follows is, I think, accurate -- but correct me if I'm wrong.
Loudon Wainwright III was born in 1947. He still performs and records, and has also had a minor acting career (M.A.S.H., Ally McBeal, and a few movies). His father was Loudon S Wainwright Jr., a famous journalist and editor for Life magazine, who died in 1992. The father of Loudon S. Wainwright Jr. was Loudon Wainwright, a wealthy insurance magnate and a direct descendant of colonial governor Peter Stuyvesant.
Loudon Wainwright III has younger sister, Sloan Wainwright. She's a popular indie singer/songwriter.
Loudon Wainwright III has three offspring:
* Rufus Wainwright was born in 1973, and his mother is Canadian singer Kate McGarrigle. He's definitely the most famous of the Wainwright kids.
* Martha Wainwright was born in 1976, and her mother is also Kate McGarrigle -- who was divorced from Loudon in 1977.
* Lucy Roche, whose mother is singer Suzzy Roche). Lucy was a student at Oberlin College, and she also sings.
Here's a link to a recent interview with Loudon Wainwright III: All in the family.
Musician and actor Loudon Wainwright III has had a very successful career, but he still can't get his damn kids to listen.
On My Birthday... Loudie Wainwright III was in Houston
Well, whatta ya know... my favorite folkie/guitarist/songwriter was performing in Houston on my birthday -- and I wasn't there. I seem to have missed him everywhere lately, but if he ever gets back this way (maybe to see his brother) I WILL!! In the meantime, here's an article from Houston about Louden... I seem to have messed up all of the little songs I have tried to save on this blog. I do want his new album, "Songs From the New Depression." Once I get the old checkbook built up again, I'll get it, as I do love what he has to sing! What a great guy.
HITTING THE LISTENING ROOM
Forget the Dylan rap: Loudon Wainwright III channels George Carlin in his serious, silly songs
By Michael D. Clark
September 11th, 2010 at 2:27 PM
It's hard to classify an artist like Loudon Wainwright III. That's one of the reasons he is so enticing.
Blossoming as a singer-songwriter in the '60s, his songs have always been a soundtrack of the times in which we live. In fact, he was so good at it that many dubbed him as the successor to Bob Dylan as folk-rock's historian in the early '70s. Where he and Bob parted ways, however, was Wainwright's penchant for imbuing his work with a bit of tongue-in-cheek satire.
In that way he was also a bit like George Carlin.
Still, if you had to be the metaphorical lovechild of two hippy-era icons, one could do worse than Dylan and Carlin.
Wainwrights's 40 year recording career has been a series of luring fans in with his sincere ideas set to music, followed by metaphorically asking his audiences to pull his finger.
Before receiving Grammy nominations in the mid-1980s for the albums, I'm Alright and More Love Songs, Wainwright's best known song was a little ditty titled "Dead Skunk (In the Middle of the Road)." And when people started comparing him to Dylan he responded by mimicking Dylan's simple couplets and song style for the 1992 song, "Talking New Bob Dylan."
It's not surprising then that, following last year's release of High Wide & Handsome: The Charlie Poole Project, — a very straight-forward tribute to the early 20th century singer and banjo player that earned Wainwright a best traditional folk album Grammy — his latest album is sarcastically titled, 10 Songs For the New Depression.
HITTING THE LISTENING ROOM
Forget the Dylan rap: Loudon Wainwright III channels George Carlin in his serious, silly songs
By Michael D. Clark
September 11th, 2010 at 2:27 PM
It's hard to classify an artist like Loudon Wainwright III. That's one of the reasons he is so enticing.
Blossoming as a singer-songwriter in the '60s, his songs have always been a soundtrack of the times in which we live. In fact, he was so good at it that many dubbed him as the successor to Bob Dylan as folk-rock's historian in the early '70s. Where he and Bob parted ways, however, was Wainwright's penchant for imbuing his work with a bit of tongue-in-cheek satire.
In that way he was also a bit like George Carlin.
Still, if you had to be the metaphorical lovechild of two hippy-era icons, one could do worse than Dylan and Carlin.
Wainwrights's 40 year recording career has been a series of luring fans in with his sincere ideas set to music, followed by metaphorically asking his audiences to pull his finger.
Before receiving Grammy nominations in the mid-1980s for the albums, I'm Alright and More Love Songs, Wainwright's best known song was a little ditty titled "Dead Skunk (In the Middle of the Road)." And when people started comparing him to Dylan he responded by mimicking Dylan's simple couplets and song style for the 1992 song, "Talking New Bob Dylan."
It's not surprising then that, following last year's release of High Wide & Handsome: The Charlie Poole Project, — a very straight-forward tribute to the early 20th century singer and banjo player that earned Wainwright a best traditional folk album Grammy — his latest album is sarcastically titled, 10 Songs For the New Depression.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Another Birthday on a bad day...
So one more year has gone by and we are in 5772 if one is Jewish, 2010 if christian, but what if one is neither, nor really much of anything and was born on the dreadful day for 3,000 in New York City? My 9/11 birthday has come and almost gone. I probably should say 'my birthday weekend' for I have had a great one. On Friday my dear little Elvira arrived with an enormous box of lovely huge strawberries as a birthday present (she knows how much I love strawberries... just like my Daddy), then Colin arrived with birthday cake (carrot cake, another favorite), so we had coffee and cake after the strawberries. Then on Saturday, my dear little Ana arrived with a bouquet of pink ruffled roses (one still shows the teeth marks of Sylvia Katt, who had it in her mouth about to bite it off when I arrived to shout "STOP THAT" at her). I will have to find a spot she cannot jump to if I want to see them all in good shape tomorrow. My gals are very good to me and I love them dearly. I even had a note from Jack from Brookings, Oregon... and a lovely one from Al, also in Oregon... one of the better corespondents I have ever known... always an answer to whatever foolish note he has received from me.
Then today I had about a two hour phone conversation with son Mark and the kidlets. I am so proud of all of them. Mark is a wonderful son, husband and father, married to a beautiful wife, who is also a great mother to the kidlets. And what can I say about the kidlets... not only a beautiful bunch of children, those three, but also very bright and adorable. Callie has taken the tests for the school she wants to attend for high school and has come out as one of the top two percentile in the country... but then, we all knew she was. She is far ahead of most of the children in her grade in school and now will get extra classes to keep her interested. Bella also is getting all A's in school and devoted to her dance troop, where she is doing extremely well. Charlie is now 4, although he looks more like a 5 or 6 year old... and as busy and funny as ever. They all sang Happy Birthday to me as an opening today... so darling! What a great family I have... how lucky I am... and busy, as I go Tuesday to read with my poetry group in the Yerba Buena Gardens down at Fourth and Mission. A lovely setting to perform with my San Francisco poetry family.
Now I shall close, make sure Sylvia is settled down away from my bouquet, and I shall settle down myself. I had a great birthday weekend... life is good. Love to all..............
Then today I had about a two hour phone conversation with son Mark and the kidlets. I am so proud of all of them. Mark is a wonderful son, husband and father, married to a beautiful wife, who is also a great mother to the kidlets. And what can I say about the kidlets... not only a beautiful bunch of children, those three, but also very bright and adorable. Callie has taken the tests for the school she wants to attend for high school and has come out as one of the top two percentile in the country... but then, we all knew she was. She is far ahead of most of the children in her grade in school and now will get extra classes to keep her interested. Bella also is getting all A's in school and devoted to her dance troop, where she is doing extremely well. Charlie is now 4, although he looks more like a 5 or 6 year old... and as busy and funny as ever. They all sang Happy Birthday to me as an opening today... so darling! What a great family I have... how lucky I am... and busy, as I go Tuesday to read with my poetry group in the Yerba Buena Gardens down at Fourth and Mission. A lovely setting to perform with my San Francisco poetry family.
Now I shall close, make sure Sylvia is settled down away from my bouquet, and I shall settle down myself. I had a great birthday weekend... life is good. Love to all..............
Thursday, August 5, 2010
I have found a group who are at least attempting to do something about the mess that is our 'government.' Take a look, you might find them interesting, and then again you might not, particularly if you are a lifetime politician: http://www.fixcongressfirst.org/
Perhaps you might find this interesting: http://www.democracymeetup.com/
Or this: http://www.callaconvention.org/
And I found this one very interesting: http://www.leftyblogs.com/
But then, I like my mother before me, am something of a Progressive (or even Radical)
I would love to see a complete overhaul of Congress, with all Congresspeople on Social Security, and made to go home after serving a definite number of terms (or years), and not allowed to sign on as lobbyists for any corporations. Perhaps this is only possible with a convention... so let us call for a convention and rewrite or amend the Constitution, which was written for an agricultural nation. We are no longer that... life changes, therefore government should change.
We seem to have come to an impasse, with two do-nothing parties simply fighting each other instead of what they were elected to do... make laws and serve us, the people, as our representatives, then leave Washington and return to his/her 'job.' For I would like to see no more lifetime 'politicians' -- but instead actual 'representatives' of the people who voted for them. I am sick of labels. I want to see a Senator being a Senator, a Representative being a Representative, not merely a party hack, but serving The People and actually working at being In Congress daily, actually there, working at doing the tasks of our government, reading and understanding the bills brought before them, and assisting in the task of getting them through Congress, or defeated... but doing either in short order, with televised, not only speeches, but also a sweep of the entire 'audience' of a speech, so we can identify our representatives at work.
Is this all a dream. I sincerely hope not, for if it is, and nothing can be done quickly and well, perhaps the next thing is what also was done before: Revolution. I'm all for it. Perhaps it is up to me to form the next group. Revolution Now.
Perhaps you might find this interesting: http://www.democracymeetup.com/
Or this: http://www.callaconvention.org/
And I found this one very interesting: http://www.leftyblogs.com/
But then, I like my mother before me, am something of a Progressive (or even Radical)
I would love to see a complete overhaul of Congress, with all Congresspeople on Social Security, and made to go home after serving a definite number of terms (or years), and not allowed to sign on as lobbyists for any corporations. Perhaps this is only possible with a convention... so let us call for a convention and rewrite or amend the Constitution, which was written for an agricultural nation. We are no longer that... life changes, therefore government should change.
We seem to have come to an impasse, with two do-nothing parties simply fighting each other instead of what they were elected to do... make laws and serve us, the people, as our representatives, then leave Washington and return to his/her 'job.' For I would like to see no more lifetime 'politicians' -- but instead actual 'representatives' of the people who voted for them. I am sick of labels. I want to see a Senator being a Senator, a Representative being a Representative, not merely a party hack, but serving The People and actually working at being In Congress daily, actually there, working at doing the tasks of our government, reading and understanding the bills brought before them, and assisting in the task of getting them through Congress, or defeated... but doing either in short order, with televised, not only speeches, but also a sweep of the entire 'audience' of a speech, so we can identify our representatives at work.
Is this all a dream. I sincerely hope not, for if it is, and nothing can be done quickly and well, perhaps the next thing is what also was done before: Revolution. I'm all for it. Perhaps it is up to me to form the next group. Revolution Now.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Messed up once more...
I often wonder if anyone else has as many mess-ups as I when it comes to adding things to my blog. I hope I can fix the last video, as I loved it and would like to continue to play it.
At least I have managed to add Ms.Katt to the blog. She who after all owns not only this apartment with an extra large window looking out over Dolores, and everything in it, but also we acolytes who come and go from it. She is one of the smartest animals I have ever known, and has trained me in keeping her food and water bowls filled at all times, and her litter box cleaned out at all times... all by simply coming and announcing her wants during the day, and by jumping on me every hour of the night if I haven't done my duties before going to bed. She has taught me how to play 'fetch'... something I hadn't done since my dog Minnie was young... and how to put up with a remarkably long, heavy, warm, furry animal lying from my hip to shoulder all night long, snoring in my ear. But who would I have to talk to without Sylvia... or play games with... or eat dinner with... or laugh at when she is acting silly and leaping from chair back to chair back, then up to the middle of the window to run up and down... or to give me a kiss anytime I ask for one... or love unconditionally on my part... maybe a bit conditionally on hers. Sylvia, a Bengal, is only a few generations from a wild cat... and she came to me... whom my daughter terms: "A Wild and Wacky Woman" on the doormat she bought for me... so we go together Sylvia and I, and I am very glad that she chose me when she was a little kitten... as her brothers all scampered off, she climbed on my shoulder and purred in my ear.... it was immediate love!
At least I have managed to add Ms.Katt to the blog. She who after all owns not only this apartment with an extra large window looking out over Dolores, and everything in it, but also we acolytes who come and go from it. She is one of the smartest animals I have ever known, and has trained me in keeping her food and water bowls filled at all times, and her litter box cleaned out at all times... all by simply coming and announcing her wants during the day, and by jumping on me every hour of the night if I haven't done my duties before going to bed. She has taught me how to play 'fetch'... something I hadn't done since my dog Minnie was young... and how to put up with a remarkably long, heavy, warm, furry animal lying from my hip to shoulder all night long, snoring in my ear. But who would I have to talk to without Sylvia... or play games with... or eat dinner with... or laugh at when she is acting silly and leaping from chair back to chair back, then up to the middle of the window to run up and down... or to give me a kiss anytime I ask for one... or love unconditionally on my part... maybe a bit conditionally on hers. Sylvia, a Bengal, is only a few generations from a wild cat... and she came to me... whom my daughter terms: "A Wild and Wacky Woman" on the doormat she bought for me... so we go together Sylvia and I, and I am very glad that she chose me when she was a little kitten... as her brothers all scampered off, she climbed on my shoulder and purred in my ear.... it was immediate love!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Yes, I Guess It Does!
I do hope I have done this right... for someone who has been working on Macs since 1984, one would think I could manage things like putting videos on this... I did it once, let's hope I got it:
Guess not, so for a fun one, go to this address, down to the bottom of the blog, and play the video that is there... I absolutely love it, for the Cole Porter song, and for the great snips of movies...
http://handmadebymother.blogspot.com/2010/02/now-heaven-knows-anything-goes.html
Thank you so much Handmade Guru... one of these days, this blog is going to spill over to my craft experiences and perhaps patterns, ancient (and I have many of those) and modern.
Guess not, so for a fun one, go to this address, down to the bottom of the blog, and play the video that is there... I absolutely love it, for the Cole Porter song, and for the great snips of movies...
http://handmadebymother.blogspot.com/2010/02/now-heaven-knows-anything-goes.html
Thank you so much Handmade Guru... one of these days, this blog is going to spill over to my craft experiences and perhaps patterns, ancient (and I have many of those) and modern.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
At Last... a Change...
So... finally I was given a chance to change the look of my blog. It now looks like 'home'... after all, I am surrounded by books... too bad they had no pics of my pig collection or the Buddah and frogs on top of my monitor, but perhaps someday I shall discover how to add them. In the meantime, the books will have to do. Here I sit, playing on the computer once more instead of getting my apt put into PERFECT shape for the HUD inspection. I shall undoubtedly be told to pack up and get out, but I'll call my lawyer nephew, Tom, who was an Asst.State's Atty to 'get me off.' Ye gods... does anyone know an old lady who doesn't have too much STUFF... an idiot in my building got 3 different sets of 'inspectors' to come to see my apt... all three asked me why someone had called and gave me a pass... two of them asked me how long I had lived her... when I told them 13 years, one said, "Well, for goodness sake... you are amazing, my mother has only lived in her place for about six years, and hers is twice as full of stuff as yours."
Enough of complaining... I am an optimist and cheerful, so I guess the best I can say is , so what! I do have to clean off my desk, as I need to find the nail clipper to do Sylvia's nails. She caught me with a sharp nail twice using me as a 'ladder' to get up on the back of my chair. Oh, face it... I need to find all sorts of things and get rid of all sorts of things that cover the desk. Happily my dear Elvira found my last ream of paper, so I again have paper for the printer. I will be able to put my latest work on good paper. The Poetry Group will be reading in Yerba Buena Gardens on June 29th, so I have to have everything typed for for that. Mel and I are doing a sort of 'comic turn.' I am glad as I think the old one they have been doing for years is a bit tired. He and I always do well together and enjoy playing off each other. Old George called me tonight and he agrees with the Pell scholars at UC that I should write and do an act in a compedy club. I would kinda like to do something for the Fringe Festival... if I could get in... but I do need people to work with. Colin and Pat would be great. I'd better start working on it now, while I can still stand up and move... getting worse and worse on my feet. That Tuesday for our reading is getting close, but I am good to go when the time comes...
Whitney and Mike are together again... where they should be. I do hope they don't ever take separate jobs again. I am going to have to get a photo of the two of them and put them on the blog along with Mark and family... actually, a new photo of Mark and family should be put on, as that is a very old one. My darling little kidlets are growing up. Pretty soon they will have blogs. They grow too fast and are up to 9, 7 and almost 4, but look much older. I am so lucky in my family... I had great parents, two great children, and now a wonderful daughter-in-law and three gorgeous and bright little grandchildren.
Now I shall end and listen to Craig Ferguson, the mad Scot!
Enough of complaining... I am an optimist and cheerful, so I guess the best I can say is , so what! I do have to clean off my desk, as I need to find the nail clipper to do Sylvia's nails. She caught me with a sharp nail twice using me as a 'ladder' to get up on the back of my chair. Oh, face it... I need to find all sorts of things and get rid of all sorts of things that cover the desk. Happily my dear Elvira found my last ream of paper, so I again have paper for the printer. I will be able to put my latest work on good paper. The Poetry Group will be reading in Yerba Buena Gardens on June 29th, so I have to have everything typed for for that. Mel and I are doing a sort of 'comic turn.' I am glad as I think the old one they have been doing for years is a bit tired. He and I always do well together and enjoy playing off each other. Old George called me tonight and he agrees with the Pell scholars at UC that I should write and do an act in a compedy club. I would kinda like to do something for the Fringe Festival... if I could get in... but I do need people to work with. Colin and Pat would be great. I'd better start working on it now, while I can still stand up and move... getting worse and worse on my feet. That Tuesday for our reading is getting close, but I am good to go when the time comes...
Whitney and Mike are together again... where they should be. I do hope they don't ever take separate jobs again. I am going to have to get a photo of the two of them and put them on the blog along with Mark and family... actually, a new photo of Mark and family should be put on, as that is a very old one. My darling little kidlets are growing up. Pretty soon they will have blogs. They grow too fast and are up to 9, 7 and almost 4, but look much older. I am so lucky in my family... I had great parents, two great children, and now a wonderful daughter-in-law and three gorgeous and bright little grandchildren.
Now I shall end and listen to Craig Ferguson, the mad Scot!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Why? I suppose because I felt I had better write something... I am getting so out of date and one should keep up. Hard when I have so little to say... although I did spend two hours talking to my younger sister on... must have been Tuesday night, as LOST was playing in the background. I might have cut her off, but I knew I could watch it on my computer. Still haven't seen the program that followed (V) but I suppose I will. Strange to have a TV again... I spent a lovely long time not having TV... I got so much done.
I fear I am going through one of my periods of depression again... perhaps because I am not talking to Whitney every other day or so... perhaps just late reaction to the disappearance of Kirk. Add a Who to that Why. I'm sorry they managed to kill off the LOST people and program... I rather liked it... and I despise the horrible 'reality' shows that will replace it and most of the other shows. TV in the summer is not worth watching, although I shall probably continue to watch the news programs, including the BBC... and a couple of other programs on PBS.......
Also seem to have hit the wall in my writing life... my poems, when I can urge them out, do not please me at all. Although Nancy liked the one I did manage for Monday... it was sort of a silly rhyming thing... not at all her type of poem. I must get busy, as we have a reading to do in June and I shall have to have some sort of 'topical' thing... probably about the great oil spill in the Gulf or anything else I can find of a topical nature... another in the nursery rhyme series... or maybe I can find some other style of poem to play with.........
I seem to live in regret... I regret that I have not had a hair cut in -- my god, it must be years... I regret that I have not cleaned out the cupboards and thrown many things away... I regret that I have not learned how to get things onto eBay and gotten rid of them... I guess it is time to rid myself of a lot of things... including all that are causing my depression... I'd better get with it!!
I fear I am going through one of my periods of depression again... perhaps because I am not talking to Whitney every other day or so... perhaps just late reaction to the disappearance of Kirk. Add a Who to that Why. I'm sorry they managed to kill off the LOST people and program... I rather liked it... and I despise the horrible 'reality' shows that will replace it and most of the other shows. TV in the summer is not worth watching, although I shall probably continue to watch the news programs, including the BBC... and a couple of other programs on PBS.......
Also seem to have hit the wall in my writing life... my poems, when I can urge them out, do not please me at all. Although Nancy liked the one I did manage for Monday... it was sort of a silly rhyming thing... not at all her type of poem. I must get busy, as we have a reading to do in June and I shall have to have some sort of 'topical' thing... probably about the great oil spill in the Gulf or anything else I can find of a topical nature... another in the nursery rhyme series... or maybe I can find some other style of poem to play with.........
I seem to live in regret... I regret that I have not had a hair cut in -- my god, it must be years... I regret that I have not cleaned out the cupboards and thrown many things away... I regret that I have not learned how to get things onto eBay and gotten rid of them... I guess it is time to rid myself of a lot of things... including all that are causing my depression... I'd better get with it!!
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Finally....something...
I guess we should feel joyous about the fact that everyone now can have health care. Ah, but the insurance companies are still there (I always imagine them as Scrooge, rubbing his hands together, gleefully, of course), and still collecting plenty for little. Why didn't the Democrats insist on the single payer option. This is not my fight anymore I suppose. I have Medicare... and I am one of the lucky, as I am old. Now isn't that a weird thing. The wealthy republicans are now angry... not just the trailer trash ones. Let's hope that some of this is good and will help the poor... oh, I hope...
Silliness of the evening... I find that at night my lovely, soft, unlined hands suddenly show all sorts of blue veins under the lamplight... and the left hand has a perfect heart shape of veins... the only mark that shows on that hand, while the other, or right hand has an ugly criss-cross of blue veins. Ah, Peggy... in the evening, under artificial light, always extend your lovely left hand to strangers and friends... well, I said it was silliness! I love the little heart, surrounded by small marks inflicted by Ms.Sylvia Katt, when I was stupid enough to play with her.
And as I mention her Ms. Sylvia leaps ono my lap, carefully turns around so that she can settle in her favorite way, head to my left, the only way she will lie on my lap. A creature of habit this one.
My... 10 million girls were aborted in India. If the first born was a girl, off the mother went to check out the gender of the second. If a girl... gone. Oh, I'm listening to the BBC, and they are full of information... tonight one 'the dead.' According to them, half the world's deaths do not get counted. So all these death statistics are all made up? Including the dreadful ones reported by the anti-abortion nuts? Perhaps. Oh, dear, now we are back to the poor 'good' priests, one of whom said they are in danger if they wear clerical collars because of the reports on 'bad' ones. There is no good news tonight.
However... as I look up to my right, I see a lovely big bunch of daffodills... brilliant ruffled yellow blossoms... Spring is here. We have had the strangest weather... one day of sniveling rain, one of bright sun... and back to the dull day, followed by more warm sunshine, filling my tall window with warm, wonderful sunlight... and a little finch who has a lot of nerve. He comes, sits on a long green shoot now covered with green seed pods he is not interested in. Ah, but he seems to be interested in getting my attention, as he sits there and taps on the glass, over and over. The first time he did this, some days ago, perhaps last week, I ran in from the kitchen to see who was tapping so loud on my window. It sounded like perhaps a person tapping with a key or some metal thing. But no, there was a tiny bird, banging on the window. He left, then came back and tapped some more. Sylvia didn't see him until about his third visit, when she stalked quietly across the room, jumped lightly onto the table by the window, making not a sound, and leaped. I swear he laughed and flew away, only to come back once she had settled down to sleep on her fake fur bed. He woke her up, laughed again and flew away. She is most unhappy about this brave little bird. Everyone tells me to let him in, but I am not interested in having my complete room torn apart by a flying cat.
I can smell the daffodills, and if the day tomorrow there is light rain... I shall go out in the rain and enjoy the Spring... my favorite season.
Silliness of the evening... I find that at night my lovely, soft, unlined hands suddenly show all sorts of blue veins under the lamplight... and the left hand has a perfect heart shape of veins... the only mark that shows on that hand, while the other, or right hand has an ugly criss-cross of blue veins. Ah, Peggy... in the evening, under artificial light, always extend your lovely left hand to strangers and friends... well, I said it was silliness! I love the little heart, surrounded by small marks inflicted by Ms.Sylvia Katt, when I was stupid enough to play with her.
And as I mention her Ms. Sylvia leaps ono my lap, carefully turns around so that she can settle in her favorite way, head to my left, the only way she will lie on my lap. A creature of habit this one.
My... 10 million girls were aborted in India. If the first born was a girl, off the mother went to check out the gender of the second. If a girl... gone. Oh, I'm listening to the BBC, and they are full of information... tonight one 'the dead.' According to them, half the world's deaths do not get counted. So all these death statistics are all made up? Including the dreadful ones reported by the anti-abortion nuts? Perhaps. Oh, dear, now we are back to the poor 'good' priests, one of whom said they are in danger if they wear clerical collars because of the reports on 'bad' ones. There is no good news tonight.
However... as I look up to my right, I see a lovely big bunch of daffodills... brilliant ruffled yellow blossoms... Spring is here. We have had the strangest weather... one day of sniveling rain, one of bright sun... and back to the dull day, followed by more warm sunshine, filling my tall window with warm, wonderful sunlight... and a little finch who has a lot of nerve. He comes, sits on a long green shoot now covered with green seed pods he is not interested in. Ah, but he seems to be interested in getting my attention, as he sits there and taps on the glass, over and over. The first time he did this, some days ago, perhaps last week, I ran in from the kitchen to see who was tapping so loud on my window. It sounded like perhaps a person tapping with a key or some metal thing. But no, there was a tiny bird, banging on the window. He left, then came back and tapped some more. Sylvia didn't see him until about his third visit, when she stalked quietly across the room, jumped lightly onto the table by the window, making not a sound, and leaped. I swear he laughed and flew away, only to come back once she had settled down to sleep on her fake fur bed. He woke her up, laughed again and flew away. She is most unhappy about this brave little bird. Everyone tells me to let him in, but I am not interested in having my complete room torn apart by a flying cat.
I can smell the daffodills, and if the day tomorrow there is light rain... I shall go out in the rain and enjoy the Spring... my favorite season.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
A Hope for More Readers...
IF WE DO NOT PASS HEALTH INSURANCE REFORM:
Up to 17 million more people will be uninsured by 2019 than today. 1
The average family's health care costs will nearly double by 2020, from $13,000 to $24,000
— meaning they'll be paying a quarter of their income toward health care costs. 2
Insurers can continue the massive and arbitrary premium rate increases we've heard about
recently — such as Anthem Blue Cross raising rates for customers in California by nearly
40%, and rates in Illinois going up by as much as 60%.
As many as 275,000 people could die prematurely over the next 10 years because they
don't have health insurance. 3
Health care costs will take up a staggering amount of our national budget. In 1960, it was 5
percent of gross domestic product (GDP), last year it was 17 percent. Costs will reach 21
percent of our economy by 2020 if we fail to act. 4
Rapidly rising costs will make it harder for employers — particularly small businesses — to
provide quality health insurance to employees, leading many to drop coverage or shift to
plans that cover less. 5
Even those who have insurance today will be less secure, and more likely to lose coverage if
they switch jobs or lose their job due to rising costs on the individual market or being
denied coverage due to a pre-existing condition. 6
1. http://www.urban.org/UploadedPDF/411965_failure_to_enact.pdf
2. Commonwealth Fund, via NYT: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/weekinreview/28abelson.html
3. Families USA, via NYT: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/weekinreview/28abelson.html
4. http://www.commonwealthfund.org/Content/Blog/The-Costs-of-Failure.aspx
5. http://www.commonwealthfund.org/Content/Blog/The-Costs-of-Failure.aspx
6. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/07/opinion/07sun1.html?pagewanted=all
Up to 17 million more people will be uninsured by 2019 than today. 1
The average family's health care costs will nearly double by 2020, from $13,000 to $24,000
— meaning they'll be paying a quarter of their income toward health care costs. 2
Insurers can continue the massive and arbitrary premium rate increases we've heard about
recently — such as Anthem Blue Cross raising rates for customers in California by nearly
40%, and rates in Illinois going up by as much as 60%.
As many as 275,000 people could die prematurely over the next 10 years because they
don't have health insurance. 3
Health care costs will take up a staggering amount of our national budget. In 1960, it was 5
percent of gross domestic product (GDP), last year it was 17 percent. Costs will reach 21
percent of our economy by 2020 if we fail to act. 4
Rapidly rising costs will make it harder for employers — particularly small businesses — to
provide quality health insurance to employees, leading many to drop coverage or shift to
plans that cover less. 5
Even those who have insurance today will be less secure, and more likely to lose coverage if
they switch jobs or lose their job due to rising costs on the individual market or being
denied coverage due to a pre-existing condition. 6
1. http://www.urban.org/UploadedPDF/411965_failure_to_enact.pdf
2. Commonwealth Fund, via NYT: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/weekinreview/28abelson.html
3. Families USA, via NYT: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/weekinreview/28abelson.html
4. http://www.commonwealthfund.org/Content/Blog/The-Costs-of-Failure.aspx
5. http://www.commonwealthfund.org/Content/Blog/The-Costs-of-Failure.aspx
6. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/07/opinion/07sun1.html?pagewanted=all
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
WOMEN'S DAY POEM
I forget to post this yesterday, but I read it to my poetry group, who enjoyed it, after advising on cuts, which I made. My mother was a Suffragette, marching in Chicago on this same day. Jessie taught me a lot, but obviously not how to pick a husband...
...“peace and stability "can only be achieved with the
participation of women as equal partners with men."
-- The Organization for Security and Cooperation
I laugh, because I had two husbands
Who had no idea how to clean or cook
Who could not change a diaper or feed a child
That was all Women’s work and mine,
Even though I worked all day at a Man’s job
With long hours, as I had to be better
Than the Men if I wanted to keep working.
Long hours, hard work and collapse on Sunday,
Only to have a MAN stand over me and say:
“Where’s lunch, I’m hungry.”
Bless the children, oh great god
(Whom so many in our country believe in)
Convince the poor Women who shrink back
And say “Yes, dear” and keep having children
To only replace themselves, one child each,
And teach their boys to do the dishes
And their employers that they are worth
An even dollar to match each Man’s wage,
Not the seventy-five cents we get now.
Yes, if there is a god, let him show his might,
Help the Women to achieve ‘peace and stability.’
And you might also raise their wages.
Thank you George for your comments. You are very correct.
I do hope that some of the marching both our generations did help, Jess, we can only hope, I suppose; a few men agree with us... including our new president.
...“peace and stability "can only be achieved with the
participation of women as equal partners with men."
-- The Organization for Security and Cooperation
I laugh, because I had two husbands
Who had no idea how to clean or cook
Who could not change a diaper or feed a child
That was all Women’s work and mine,
Even though I worked all day at a Man’s job
With long hours, as I had to be better
Than the Men if I wanted to keep working.
Long hours, hard work and collapse on Sunday,
Only to have a MAN stand over me and say:
“Where’s lunch, I’m hungry.”
Bless the children, oh great god
(Whom so many in our country believe in)
Convince the poor Women who shrink back
And say “Yes, dear” and keep having children
To only replace themselves, one child each,
And teach their boys to do the dishes
And their employers that they are worth
An even dollar to match each Man’s wage,
Not the seventy-five cents we get now.
Yes, if there is a god, let him show his might,
Help the Women to achieve ‘peace and stability.’
And you might also raise their wages.
Thank you George for your comments. You are very correct.
I do hope that some of the marching both our generations did help, Jess, we can only hope, I suppose; a few men agree with us... including our new president.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Louden Wainwright III
One of my favorite singer/songwriters singing about one of my favorite columnists in the New York Times. I miss the Sunday Times, but the delivery guy can't find me, so I can't receive it...sad. But I can now listen to Loudy any time I want to, and I don't have to get out the records, tapes or CDs... he's right here. Wish I had a video of him playing his guitar more... he's very good! Oh... and this is from The New Yorker... I miss then too.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
No Wonder no one Comments (or reads?)
This is absolutely the dullest, most prosaic page on the web. I MUST ask someone how to fix it and make it look like all the other pages I LIKE... I have no idea how to do it. That's what I get for letting myself just slide along and not learning any of the new things that can be done. Terrible... and to think that I used to teach people how to use computers. How did I manage to get so dull?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
facebook, ah facebook... can be a bit much....
I have a disgusting ad on my facebook page. It is a pic of Ronnie the Ruiner (dressed as a cowboy, of course), put there by a bunch of screaming nutsies (the man who started it is shown screaming in his rather disgusting photo) who obviously weren’t watching as he took the country down, and began the republican/PNAC lovely idea to really ruin the country, so that they could get together with 'leaders' in other countries and I suppose they felt: Rule the World.
What a shame that a group of old white men seem to think they can run the country any way they want. Yet they are elected by a tiny minority of ‘the people,’ as they are allowed the same two senators from the states with the smallest population that we are allowed in the states with the largest population. So MANY of the senators sitting in Congress screaming "NO" and "YOU LIE" and other nasty remarks are elected by a minority of the people of our country. And you may have noticed that the Senate is where things get stuck -- things usually desired by the majority of the people in this country. The old white men elected by the minority of the people of the U.S. will do anything to keep anything attempted for the good of the majority from going through. (Interesting... I highlighted the whole thing, but this would not go to red... very weird!)
Yet they feel they should run the country and hold up decent bills that would be best for us, the majority, who want them. Please notice the difference in the House, where people are elected by the majority of the populace. If they had been heard and been allowed to send their bill to the president at the beginning of the health care debate, we would have universal health care by now. Only the minority of the people are holding this up.
Don't listen to them, or allow them to rule the country by their delaying and underhanded tactics. Get out the vote in your state, sign people up... make sure this rotten minority doesn't take over again. And be sure to VOTE yourself. Remember, as the republicans used to remind us almost daily, the majority does rule... but we must VOTE, in the Primaries and in the General Elections.
And one last little comment... I am so happy to finally have someone in the White House who knows the name of our country, and doesn't say "...and god bless Amurica," but says it correctly:... "God bless the United States of America."
What a shame that a group of old white men seem to think they can run the country any way they want. Yet they are elected by a tiny minority of ‘the people,’ as they are allowed the same two senators from the states with the smallest population that we are allowed in the states with the largest population. So MANY of the senators sitting in Congress screaming "NO" and "YOU LIE" and other nasty remarks are elected by a minority of the people of our country. And you may have noticed that the Senate is where things get stuck -- things usually desired by the majority of the people in this country. The old white men elected by the minority of the people of the U.S. will do anything to keep anything attempted for the good of the majority from going through. (Interesting... I highlighted the whole thing, but this would not go to red... very weird!)
Yet they feel they should run the country and hold up decent bills that would be best for us, the majority, who want them. Please notice the difference in the House, where people are elected by the majority of the populace. If they had been heard and been allowed to send their bill to the president at the beginning of the health care debate, we would have universal health care by now. Only the minority of the people are holding this up.
Don't listen to them, or allow them to rule the country by their delaying and underhanded tactics. Get out the vote in your state, sign people up... make sure this rotten minority doesn't take over again. And be sure to VOTE yourself. Remember, as the republicans used to remind us almost daily, the majority does rule... but we must VOTE, in the Primaries and in the General Elections.
And one last little comment... I am so happy to finally have someone in the White House who knows the name of our country, and doesn't say "...and god bless Amurica," but says it correctly:... "God bless the United States of America."
What a Week.....
And it's only Wednesday! I cannot seem to get everything DONE until around 3am, and therefore cannot seem to get up until afternoon, thus causing the same problem the next day, and on and on. Why is it that there is less time when you have finally retired? And time picks up so fast as one grows older? And you put off the things that you should be doing and start reading all the interesting things you find when googling for info, moving from one to the next, to the next and all of a sudden it is 3am, and you have lost the thought... and have not done any of the should haves?
Oh, well, tonight I will go to bed on time (repeat that 10 times and tell Sylvia to remind you). She just came shooting in, jumped up behind me and settled in to wash herself for the 10th time today (obviously she is psychic). Now my chair will shake with the washing and tail swishing constantly.
I have been cleaning out my mailboxes and had to read the 'what's going on in SF this week note.' Interesting. We have a hip-hop version of Dante's Inferno; a play about origami; the eternal 'Beach Blanket Babylon;' a story about a first grade teacher rescuing her physical therapist from harm (their description is five times longer); a gourmet dinner and show at NYC prices; a Valentine's day cruise; tennis in San Jose; back to the beginning?--Antigone, Phaedra and Oedipus, none in the original however; more cruises--many cruises; comedy, comedy, comedy and so much more, including a whole day of winetasting (they say nothing of how they sober you up to go home). Golly, we sure have lots to do.
I won't be doing any of it... I shall be putting strange old books on my Kindle; thinking about finally hooking up my new TV which has been sitting at the end of my desk, holding up the dragons, which also must be put up on the wall; cooking a bunch of meals from the things that are falling out of my over-filled freezer; listening to a bunch of new CDs; and looking up songs to put on my new purple ipod (all these things from Whitney's huge Amazon credit card she sent me for my birthday -- bless her heart!). So I may never go out again with all the googling and learning how to use all the new stuff.
I adore the Kindle -- I can download all the books from the Gutenberg Website for free (of course, I volunteer at their website, one of the 'jobs' I have chosen to do the 'giving back' that Jessie taught us to do. I am 'proofing' the old books, something I always managed to push off on someone else when I was in advertising... but here it is fun, and you get to read some really interesting old books. Also, new books are a tremendous price for the Kindle -- often books that would cost you $30 to buy are $9.99, as are most from Amazon... or less, and often free. (I fear ABEbooks will miss me... books for the Kindle often are less than from them. I do love ABEbks though, and hate to say it, but just ordered something from them.)
And then there are the two new applications I just got for my Mac... a drawing one that I MUST get to, as I haven't done any drawing in ages, except doing some heads from Charlie Rose programs awhile back -- but in pencil. A couple of them were pretty good, so I want to do some more. Ah, that takes us back in a circle to WHEN do I find time to do...............? What a week, what a month, what a year -- OMG, it is no longer 2009, it is 2010 -- when did that happen?
Oh, well, tonight I will go to bed on time (repeat that 10 times and tell Sylvia to remind you). She just came shooting in, jumped up behind me and settled in to wash herself for the 10th time today (obviously she is psychic). Now my chair will shake with the washing and tail swishing constantly.
I have been cleaning out my mailboxes and had to read the 'what's going on in SF this week note.' Interesting. We have a hip-hop version of Dante's Inferno; a play about origami; the eternal 'Beach Blanket Babylon;' a story about a first grade teacher rescuing her physical therapist from harm (their description is five times longer); a gourmet dinner and show at NYC prices; a Valentine's day cruise; tennis in San Jose; back to the beginning?--Antigone, Phaedra and Oedipus, none in the original however; more cruises--many cruises; comedy, comedy, comedy and so much more, including a whole day of winetasting (they say nothing of how they sober you up to go home). Golly, we sure have lots to do.
I won't be doing any of it... I shall be putting strange old books on my Kindle; thinking about finally hooking up my new TV which has been sitting at the end of my desk, holding up the dragons, which also must be put up on the wall; cooking a bunch of meals from the things that are falling out of my over-filled freezer; listening to a bunch of new CDs; and looking up songs to put on my new purple ipod (all these things from Whitney's huge Amazon credit card she sent me for my birthday -- bless her heart!). So I may never go out again with all the googling and learning how to use all the new stuff.
I adore the Kindle -- I can download all the books from the Gutenberg Website for free (of course, I volunteer at their website, one of the 'jobs' I have chosen to do the 'giving back' that Jessie taught us to do. I am 'proofing' the old books, something I always managed to push off on someone else when I was in advertising... but here it is fun, and you get to read some really interesting old books. Also, new books are a tremendous price for the Kindle -- often books that would cost you $30 to buy are $9.99, as are most from Amazon... or less, and often free. (I fear ABEbooks will miss me... books for the Kindle often are less than from them. I do love ABEbks though, and hate to say it, but just ordered something from them.)
And then there are the two new applications I just got for my Mac... a drawing one that I MUST get to, as I haven't done any drawing in ages, except doing some heads from Charlie Rose programs awhile back -- but in pencil. A couple of them were pretty good, so I want to do some more. Ah, that takes us back in a circle to WHEN do I find time to do...............? What a week, what a month, what a year -- OMG, it is no longer 2009, it is 2010 -- when did that happen?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Now For Another Rant....
What is it about old men. Not only do they grow long ears and bushy eyebrows, they also get stuck in their ways and cannot stand it if a woman might know a tiny bit more about a subject than they. Or even if she has a different opinion about something than they do. Are we to have no thoughts of our own? Are we to be considered ‘communists’ or ‘fascists’ if we take another ‘side’ than that of a man? The one I am most amused by is the guy who said that I was a ‘fascist’ because I had said I was a Socialist and after all, Hitler’s party was called a “Socialist’ party. GOD! Cannot a woman disagree with a man? And if she has plausible proof that what she said is true, is she still to be called a ‘liar,’ simply because she has disagreed with the ‘more intelligent’ man... well, more intelligent simply because he is a man, i guess. Surprise, guys... I read several news magazines (two present ‘both sides; of U.S. politics -- two or three don’t), have gone to school my whole life, listen to radio and TV and assiduously avoid ‘commentators’ from either ‘side.’ I love the BBC for its lack of ‘side.’ So I think I know whereof I speak. I do have an opinion... everyone does.
I think of ‘the men’s table’ in the cafeteria of a college in SF where I took classes. Bunch of scowling old men muttering to each other about their money (their ONLY lives so often). I saw a friend sitting at the table one day, with an empty seat opposite him... so, for a laugh I went over, said hello, put down my tray and pulled out the chair and sat down. An alarming growl went up and the men on either side of me slid their chairs away from mine. I sat down to silence and even worse scowls than usual. My friend, who was as amused as I, and I talked brightly about classes and world politics (more growls... we were the WRONG party). When I was finished, I arose, said, “Goodbye boys, nice seeing all of you!” and left to final growls.
Makes me remember both my younger sister’s and my grandmother’s admonitions: Georgie (after I told an engineer friend of her husband’s he was wrong about some territory, and finally went and got the encyclopedia to show him: “Come help me in the kitchen...you NEVER tell a man he is wrong! How COULD YOU! Now he’ll NEVER ask you out!” (Like I’d have gone... the guy was a jerk.) Grandmother: “Now Peggy dear, tha shouldn’t hae told your cousin he was wrong, e’en tho he were, no mon likes to be told when he is wrong.”
Well, I know, but I forget. After all, I had a wonderful GROWN man friend who could argue with me and admit when he was wrong and I was right, and I could admit when I was wrong and he was right. We were actually equals and I loved that. Unfortunately he went back to the wife who didn’t want to be touched, and a very dysfunctional family... I guess they needed him more than I did. (He always said he admired the way I could take care of myself... if he only knew how tough it was, particularly with men other than those like him.)
Well, there is one thing I have learned even though I am still told I am wrong. It is getting easier to make men disappear. There is no longer “As god is my witness,” today it is “As Google is my witness.” If it ain’t in Google, well, it jes’ AIN’T! And yet another man runs for the door. They are all cowards toward the ends of their lives. Strange, as when I was young and working in advertising, because I had ‘a man’s job’ it was OK for me to sit in the living room and argue with the guys and not be told I didn’t know because I was a woman. If I had a cogent argument, I was allowed to express it and it was accepted. Of course, the crowd I belonged to was young and we pretty much agreed with each other. However, I really must adopt a new rule: Never talk (or, particularly, argue) politics with an older man.
“I looked it up in Google”... great folk song material, “Oh, I looked it up in Google and what did I see/ big drum roll and a fol de rol, rol/ a band of republicans comin’ after me/ big drum roll and a fol de rol, rol.... Fol de rol rol, fol de rol rol/ republicans, republicans acomin' after me!! (obviously they were going to waterboard me until I told them what it was I couldn’t find in Google.) I love Google, but it is the biggest time waster in the Universe.
My poor old cat is winding down at the ripe old age of eight. She wasn’t interested in playing with any of her old toys (kept in a paper bag she was more interested in than the toys), so I went to the ancient Christmas stocking she got from a friend one year and got out a new tiny green mousie and tied it to a piece of red yarn. Then I flew him around a few times and she almost went mad. She’s been dancing after that mouse for half an hour, and just lay down to rest, but I now have the damned thing hooked onto the file drawer so she can play without me and she’s up and after him again, as now I am worn out from throwing him in the air.
I think of ‘the men’s table’ in the cafeteria of a college in SF where I took classes. Bunch of scowling old men muttering to each other about their money (their ONLY lives so often). I saw a friend sitting at the table one day, with an empty seat opposite him... so, for a laugh I went over, said hello, put down my tray and pulled out the chair and sat down. An alarming growl went up and the men on either side of me slid their chairs away from mine. I sat down to silence and even worse scowls than usual. My friend, who was as amused as I, and I talked brightly about classes and world politics (more growls... we were the WRONG party). When I was finished, I arose, said, “Goodbye boys, nice seeing all of you!” and left to final growls.
Makes me remember both my younger sister’s and my grandmother’s admonitions: Georgie (after I told an engineer friend of her husband’s he was wrong about some territory, and finally went and got the encyclopedia to show him: “Come help me in the kitchen...you NEVER tell a man he is wrong! How COULD YOU! Now he’ll NEVER ask you out!” (Like I’d have gone... the guy was a jerk.) Grandmother: “Now Peggy dear, tha shouldn’t hae told your cousin he was wrong, e’en tho he were, no mon likes to be told when he is wrong.”
Well, I know, but I forget. After all, I had a wonderful GROWN man friend who could argue with me and admit when he was wrong and I was right, and I could admit when I was wrong and he was right. We were actually equals and I loved that. Unfortunately he went back to the wife who didn’t want to be touched, and a very dysfunctional family... I guess they needed him more than I did. (He always said he admired the way I could take care of myself... if he only knew how tough it was, particularly with men other than those like him.)
Well, there is one thing I have learned even though I am still told I am wrong. It is getting easier to make men disappear. There is no longer “As god is my witness,” today it is “As Google is my witness.” If it ain’t in Google, well, it jes’ AIN’T! And yet another man runs for the door. They are all cowards toward the ends of their lives. Strange, as when I was young and working in advertising, because I had ‘a man’s job’ it was OK for me to sit in the living room and argue with the guys and not be told I didn’t know because I was a woman. If I had a cogent argument, I was allowed to express it and it was accepted. Of course, the crowd I belonged to was young and we pretty much agreed with each other. However, I really must adopt a new rule: Never talk (or, particularly, argue) politics with an older man.
“I looked it up in Google”... great folk song material, “Oh, I looked it up in Google and what did I see/ big drum roll and a fol de rol, rol/ a band of republicans comin’ after me/ big drum roll and a fol de rol, rol.... Fol de rol rol, fol de rol rol/ republicans, republicans acomin' after me!! (obviously they were going to waterboard me until I told them what it was I couldn’t find in Google.) I love Google, but it is the biggest time waster in the Universe.
My poor old cat is winding down at the ripe old age of eight. She wasn’t interested in playing with any of her old toys (kept in a paper bag she was more interested in than the toys), so I went to the ancient Christmas stocking she got from a friend one year and got out a new tiny green mousie and tied it to a piece of red yarn. Then I flew him around a few times and she almost went mad. She’s been dancing after that mouse for half an hour, and just lay down to rest, but I now have the damned thing hooked onto the file drawer so she can play without me and she’s up and after him again, as now I am worn out from throwing him in the air.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Notes on nothing... notecards and nonsense...
I just spent my evening in the silliest way possible... writing notes to put on the face of a note card. I have decided that I really need to have note cards to write snail mail to my friends. They don't read my blog, I am not that into Facebook, and I get carried away on my emails, so I figured I would order some nice stiff notecards that I could use to write shorter notes. Anastasia (my Wednesday 'helper'... she 'shops' and belongs to CostCo.) got me some more 'forever' stamps also. I'm sticking with the 'purple theme' like my hair... and found one just like my cards, but I may use the one with the girl reclining on a purple sofa, behind a book. I'm taking them to poetry group to see which they think is best. Oh dear, I suppose I should write a poem.
Anastasia also brought me some dark chocolate Bliss, which Ms. Katt cannot have as it is bad for kitties, so I had to search for some 'Kitty Gourmet' which is what we call anything in the way of cat snacks. All I have to do is say 'Kitty Gourmet' and she lights up in anticipation and wolfs down the little morsels. The ones I gave her were very dry, so she want in and had a long drink of water, then came back and grabbed my arm and asked for more, as usual. She's not getting any more, however, so she's gone back to trying to get the insects who bounce against our window because of the light. Sylvia loves to eat flies and any other bugs that manage to get inside. I was surprised that she simply played with the teeny grey mouse that came in through the heater along the wall. She brought it over to show it to me, played with it for a while, then just let it go and the poor little thing raced back to the corner and disappeared into the heating unit. I guess it goes down to the basement. Everyone has been complaining that they have mice. I don't think I will have them ever again.
Christmas seems such a pagan festival to me... after all, that's where it came from. And all the other celebrations are silly, too. All made up, but I suppose the winter has to be broken up somehow. Good old Jack had bought himself some skis and is off skiing like all the LA people I knew... rush off to Tahoe ... Heavenly... somewhere in the mountains and ski down. Not me... you couldn't get me on skis, and I do not ever want to see snow again. My grandchildren are reveling in it at the moment and Mel has put pictures of them on Facebook, playing in the snow, bundled into their snow suits. I wonder if I ever liked snow. I do not remember. I do remember moving from Memphis (where the snow melted as it hit the ground) to St. Paul, where one walked through almost tunnels of snow to get to school, and I had all sorts of problems with the cold and snow and mean kids who teased me about my "Mimphis accent," which no one could understand. The nasty little northern kids poked me and said, "Talk, girl, listen to her talk funny!" and laughed at me. I really despised everyone for the couple of years it took me to learn 'to talk Northern.' It trained me well, though, for I now have a good ear for accents, and take on whatever one I am surrounded by now. When I was in England, I sounded just like them, and particularly when I was in the Netherlands I sounded rather 'posh English' as all of the deBrauws had gone to school in England and most of the time I was simply introduced as "Elsie's husband's cousin from England, Peggy Bentnick, the niece of the Duke of Portland. My 'cousin,' the present Duke of Portland is a very good looking actor and I have been tempted to write to him and tell him about his lost American cousin. Elsie, the oldest of the children in the family I lived with was married to Rolfe, Baron Bentnick van Schoonhaten, a very tall, good-looking man also, with a lovely deep voice who could easily have been an actor, but who worked in the family bank in Arnheim. I adapted so well in Holland that when we were getting together with a group of young people to go to a festival, one of the boys spoke to me in Dutch, and when I said I couldn't understand him, said, "Oh, you're the English cousin then, right?" So that's the part I played, except when Mrs. deBrauw wanted me to tell about my childhood in the South, one of her favorite things. I think she had read "Gone With the Wind."
As usual, this seems themeless and silly. It is... ah, well..... rather like the notecards.
Anastasia also brought me some dark chocolate Bliss, which Ms. Katt cannot have as it is bad for kitties, so I had to search for some 'Kitty Gourmet' which is what we call anything in the way of cat snacks. All I have to do is say 'Kitty Gourmet' and she lights up in anticipation and wolfs down the little morsels. The ones I gave her were very dry, so she want in and had a long drink of water, then came back and grabbed my arm and asked for more, as usual. She's not getting any more, however, so she's gone back to trying to get the insects who bounce against our window because of the light. Sylvia loves to eat flies and any other bugs that manage to get inside. I was surprised that she simply played with the teeny grey mouse that came in through the heater along the wall. She brought it over to show it to me, played with it for a while, then just let it go and the poor little thing raced back to the corner and disappeared into the heating unit. I guess it goes down to the basement. Everyone has been complaining that they have mice. I don't think I will have them ever again.
Christmas seems such a pagan festival to me... after all, that's where it came from. And all the other celebrations are silly, too. All made up, but I suppose the winter has to be broken up somehow. Good old Jack had bought himself some skis and is off skiing like all the LA people I knew... rush off to Tahoe ... Heavenly... somewhere in the mountains and ski down. Not me... you couldn't get me on skis, and I do not ever want to see snow again. My grandchildren are reveling in it at the moment and Mel has put pictures of them on Facebook, playing in the snow, bundled into their snow suits. I wonder if I ever liked snow. I do not remember. I do remember moving from Memphis (where the snow melted as it hit the ground) to St. Paul, where one walked through almost tunnels of snow to get to school, and I had all sorts of problems with the cold and snow and mean kids who teased me about my "Mimphis accent," which no one could understand. The nasty little northern kids poked me and said, "Talk, girl, listen to her talk funny!" and laughed at me. I really despised everyone for the couple of years it took me to learn 'to talk Northern.' It trained me well, though, for I now have a good ear for accents, and take on whatever one I am surrounded by now. When I was in England, I sounded just like them, and particularly when I was in the Netherlands I sounded rather 'posh English' as all of the deBrauws had gone to school in England and most of the time I was simply introduced as "Elsie's husband's cousin from England, Peggy Bentnick, the niece of the Duke of Portland. My 'cousin,' the present Duke of Portland is a very good looking actor and I have been tempted to write to him and tell him about his lost American cousin. Elsie, the oldest of the children in the family I lived with was married to Rolfe, Baron Bentnick van Schoonhaten, a very tall, good-looking man also, with a lovely deep voice who could easily have been an actor, but who worked in the family bank in Arnheim. I adapted so well in Holland that when we were getting together with a group of young people to go to a festival, one of the boys spoke to me in Dutch, and when I said I couldn't understand him, said, "Oh, you're the English cousin then, right?" So that's the part I played, except when Mrs. deBrauw wanted me to tell about my childhood in the South, one of her favorite things. I think she had read "Gone With the Wind."
As usual, this seems themeless and silly. It is... ah, well..... rather like the notecards.
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